


When you think of love, do you think of pain?

by SmilinStar



Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-04
Updated: 2015-05-04
Packaged: 2018-03-29 01:22:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3876994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmilinStar/pseuds/SmilinStar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A beat passes and she can almost see the subtle clench of his jaw as he digests that piece of news, before asking, “So am I the last person on the Caroline Forbes apology tour?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Original Ending

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Vance Joy's "Mess is Mine". I was in a mood, which I know, doesn't excuse this at all. I'm sorry, I really am. I wrote two endings to this, and I couldn’t decide which one to go with, so I've posted an alternate ending as well.

 

 

\-----

 

 

“Don't. Please don't.”

 

The words are strained, desperate. They leave his lips in a blind panic, his arm following after as if the mere gesture of an outstretched hand is enough to halt an uncaged, vicious animal from going in for the final kill.

 

She looks every bit like the relentlessly hunted and finally cornered prey in her clutches.

 

The broken, splintering piece of wood sits bloodied in her chest. Strategically placed to prolong the torture as it scrapes through ribs and teases at the apex of her heart.

 

He thinks she's as good as stuck her own hand in his chest, because he feels it. He feels every anguished breath that leaves her lips, and the terror that shines from her eyes has his own feet frozen in place and he can't look away.

 

“I told you, Stefan. I warned you what would happen.”

 

“Please. Mother,” the word leaves his lips like a prayer, and she isn't deserving of it, but there it is. His eternal hope. The one weakness that'll never desert him, leeching on and hollowing him out.

 

_One day, maybe not soon, but one day, you'll see me as your son._

The hatred curling her lips into a snarl, sparking from her eyes as she holds his pleading gaze is her unspoken, defiant _never._

It rattles inside his skull, the ugly truth of it.

 

He looks away, finally pulls away from the century and a half hold she has over him.

 

Instead, he finds his eyes on her.

 

_Caroline._

 

His feet unstick, and he moves forward a step.

 

Her response is swift, hand twisting and Caroline's screams pierce through the night air.

 

“I wouldn't do that if I were you.”

 

 

\-----

 

 

_“_ _I wouldn't if I were you.”_

_He turns away from the window._

_The light of the day spills around him. He's nothing but a dark silhouette standing there, and she can't make out a single feature on his face. Not being able to read him somehow makes it harder. The tension already running through every fibre coils just that little bit tighter, and her fingers clench involuntarily, nails digging into skin._

_She raises her other hand, slowly shakes the phone in her hand from side to side and says, voice impressively steady, “Pretty sure you've taken up all the space on my message bank already.”_

_He drops his hand, thumb pressing against the side of his own phone, the screen turning perfectly blank as he does._

_She can't see his face, but she can hear him._

_The little breath that leaves his lips is loud in the stillness, and the ghost of a flutter she feels at the back of her neck is just that. A ghost._

_“_ _You could have just deleted them.”_

_Yes, she could have. But he's her penance, and he doesn't need to know that. Thinks she's hurt him enough._

_He clears his throat, “When, uh, when did you get back?”_

_She answers truthfully, “A few days ago.”_

_A beat passes and she can almost see the subtle clench of his jaw as he digests that piece of news, before asking, “So am I the last person on the Caroline Forbes apology tour?”_

_Surprise takes the form of a shake of her head and an unexpected smile, “Yeah, I guess you are.”_

_“_ _Because,” he says, taking a step out of the shadows, “You know, you don't have to do that, right?”_

_She knows. She does. If a hundred or so voicemails didn't make it clear already, Stefan Salvatore never thought there was anything to forgive in the first place._

_But she just_ can't.

 

_She can't let it go._

\-----

“Please,” he says again, “Please, let her go.”

 

There are tears leaking from the corner of her eyes now. From fear. From pain. From everything in between.

 

Lily twists the stake a little more, and Caroline bites down so hard on her lower lip she draws blood.

 

“Look, I'm sorry okay. I'm sorry about your family, if there's anything I could do to bring them back to you, I would do it. I would.”

 

“You're getting better Stefan, I almost believe you.”

 

He makes sure to hold her gaze, “I'm not lying.”

 

“Doesn't matter,” she snaps, “They're already gone.”

 

He takes another cautious step, “But what if there's a way . . .”

 

Lily's eyes widen, his own flickering between the two women as realisation dawns in Caroline's and then she's shaking her head, “No, no, Stefan, no. _You can't_.”

 

The hand wrapped around the branch of wood slackens just a fraction, but it’s enough for him to be brave and take another step.

 

“Stefan,” Caroline says again, “You can't.”

 

He smiles at her, and it says only two words.

 

_It's okay._

\-----

_“_ _Stefan,” she says on a sigh, the smile on her lips dropping away, “I can't. I can't just let it go like that.”_

_“_ _Why not?”_

_It's so many things. But it's only one thing that truly matters._

_“_ _Because I broke my promise to you.”_

_He tilts his head, confusion furrowing his brow as he asks, “What are you talking about?”_

_“_ _I promised you once that I wouldn't let you lose control.”_

_He drops his head, “Caroline, I . . .”_

_She doesn't let him finish that thought, “How can you be so quick to forgive?”_

_There's genuine wonder in her question as she looks up at him, but there's an inkling there creeping under her skin, and when he steps forward, stops in front of her, face no longer touched by even the barest edge of shadow, her worst suspicions are confirmed._

_His voice is low and soft, the unspoken hidden between the words he chooses._

_“_ _Don't you already know?”_

\-----

“Love,” Lily says with a twisted smile, “It always did make you such a weak little boy.”

 

He's so close now, puts up both hands as a show of surrender and tries not to let his gaze waver over to Caroline.

 

“Please,” he says again, “I can help you.”

 

Something shifts in her expression, her whole face softens, hard angles smooth out and there's light in her dead eyes, and it sets every nerve in his body off. Because the smile on her face, that isn't real. When she pulls out the stake, and Caroline takes in a deep, gulping breath with the release, that isn't real either.

 

“Too bad you're a little too late,” she says, and he senses it before it happens, but he can't get his limbs to cooperate, can only watch as Lily's arm comes swinging back down, stake along with it.

 

The “No” that is ripped from his throat is carried away by the wind and there's nothing left but eerie silence.

 

 

\----

 

 

_“_ _No. Please don't. Don't say it.”_

_The hurt that flickers across his face cuts deep and just adds to her growing mountain of self-hatred._

_He hides it away fast, nods his acceptance, “Fine. I can wait.”_

_“_ _Stefan . . .”_

_“_ _You need more time? I can understand that, and it's okay Caroline. I can wait.”_

_“_ _But I don't know how long it'll take.”_

_He lifts the corner of his mouth then into the smallest of smiles, “I'm a patient guy.”_

_A flash of her mother and an old sewing kit, and she hears him say those words all over again, “I know you are.”_

_She gives him one last fleeting smile before turning on her feet and heading for the door._

_It somehow doesn't surprise her when he calls out to her, stopping her mid-step._

_“_ _Caroline?”_

_She twists to look back at him, curls falling to the side, resting over her shoulder, “Yeah?”_

_He sticks both his hands in his pockets, eyes bright as they hold hers, and says,_

_“_ _Just don't make me wait for forever okay? I'd rather spend most of it by your side.”_

\-----

His shoes feel like they've been filled with lead and he can only drag them forwards and stumble over them as he falls to her side.

 

“No, no no no,” he says again, over and over, shaking his head in disbelief.

 

Her face has already turned to that awful ashen grey, veins rising to prominence and winding this way and that over her cold, cold skin.

 

But it's the eyes.

 

It's the eyes.

 

The stillness, where once they had been sparkling with pure life.

 

And the pressure that's been building in his chest explodes in a scream. The sound that leaves his lips then is inhuman, and it's only accompanied by the sickening background sound of manic laughter.

 

“See?” she says, “I told you you'd know what it feels like. Devastation.”

 

She sits herself down across from him, runs a hand down Caroline's bare arm, and says with a soft, lilting voice and a peaceful smile, “There. Now we're completely alike. Mother and son. It's what you wanted isn't it?”

 

He answers her with tears, a bloodied fist in her chest, and pulls.

 

Because no.

 

No it isn’t.

 

 

 

 

**End.**


	2. Alternate Ending

 

 

\-----

 

 

“Don't. Please don't.”

 

The words are strained, desperate. They leave his lips in a blind panic, his arm following after as if the mere gesture of an outstretched hand is enough to halt an uncaged, vicious animal from going in for the final kill.

 

She looks every bit like the relentlessly hunted and finally cornered prey in her clutches.

 

The broken, splintering piece of wood sits bloodied in her chest. Strategically placed to prolong the torture as it scrapes through ribs and teases at the apex of her heart.

 

He thinks she's as good as stuck her own hand in his chest, because he feels it. He feels every anguished breath that leaves her lips, and the terror that shines from her eyes has his own feet frozen in place and he can't look away.

 

“I told you, Stefan. I warned you what would happen.”

 

“Please. Mother,” the word leaves his lips like a prayer, and she isn't deserving of it, but there it is. His eternal hope. The one weakness that'll never desert him, leeching on and hollowing him out.

 

_One day, maybe not soon, but one day, you'll see me as your son._

The hatred curling her lips into a snarl, sparking from her eyes as she holds his pleading gaze is her unspoken, defiant _never._

It rattles inside his skull, the ugly truth of it.

 

He looks away, finally pulls away from the century and a half hold she has over him.

 

Instead, he finds his eyes on her.

 

_Caroline._

His feet unstick, and he moves forward a step.

 

Her response is swift, hand twisting and Caroline's screams pierce through the night air.

 

“I wouldn't do that if I were you.”

 

 

\-----

 

 

_“_ _I wouldn't if I were you.”_

_He turns away from the window._

_The light of the day spills around him. He's nothing but a dark silhouette standing there, and she can't make out a single feature on his face. Not being able to read him somehow makes it harder. The tension already running through every fibre coils just that little bit tighter, and her fingers clench involuntarily, nails digging into skin._

_She raises her other hand, slowly shakes the phone in her hand from side to side and says, voice impressively steady, “Pretty sure you've taken up all the space on my message bank already.”_

_He drops his hand, thumb pressing against the side of his own phone, the screen turning perfectly blank as he does._

_She can't see his face, but she can hear him._

_The little breath that leaves his lips is loud in the stillness, and the ghost of a flutter she feels at the back of her neck is just that. A ghost._

_“_ _You could have just deleted them.”_

_Yes, she could have. But he's her penance, and he doesn't need to know that. Thinks she's hurt him enough._

_He clears his throat, “When, uh, when did you get back?”_

_She answers truthfully, “A few days ago.”_

_A beat passes and she can almost see the subtle clench of his jaw as he digests that piece of news, before asking, “So am I the last person on the Caroline Forbes apology tour?”_

_Surprise takes the form of a shake of her head and an unexpected smile, “Yeah, I guess you are.”_

_“_ _Because,” he says, taking a step out of the shadows, “You know, you don't have to do that, right?”_

_She knows. She does. If a hundred or so voicemails didn't make it clear already, Stefan Salvatore never thought there was anything to forgive in the first place._

_But she just_ can't.

 

_She can't let it go._

\-----

“Please,” he says again, “Please, let her go.”

 

There are tears leaking from the corner of her eyes now. From fear. From pain. From everything in between.

 

Lily twists the stake a little more, and Caroline bites down so hard on her lower lip she draws blood.

 

“Look, I'm sorry okay. I'm sorry about your family, if there's anything I could do to bring them back to you, I would do it. I would.”

 

“You're getting better Stefan, I almost believe you.”

 

He makes sure to hold her gaze, “I'm not lying.”

 

“Doesn't matter,” she snaps, “They're already gone.”

 

He takes another cautious step, “But what if there's a way . . .”

 

Lily's eyes widen, his own flickering between the two women as realisation dawns in Caroline's and then she's shaking her head, “No, no, Stefan, no. _You can't_.”

 

The hand wrapped around the branch of wood slackens just a fraction, but its enough for him to be brave and take another step.

 

“Stefan,” Caroline says again, “You can't.”

 

He smiles at her, and it says only two words.

 

_It's okay._

\-----

_“_ _Stefan,” she says on a sigh, the smile on her lips dropping away, “I can't. I can't just let it go like that.”_

_“_ _Why not?”_

_It's so many things. But it's only one thing that truly matters._

_“_ _Because I broke my promise to you.”_

_He tilts his head, confusion furrowing his brow as he asks, “What are you talking about?”_

_“_ _I promised you once that I wouldn't let you lose control.”_

_He drops his head, “Caroline, I . . .”_

_She doesn't let him finish that thought, “How can you be so quick to forgive?”_

_There's genuine wonder in her question as she looks up at him, but there's an inkling there creeping under her skin, and when he steps forward, stops in front of her, face no longer touched by even the barest edge of shadow, her worst suspicions are confirmed._

_His voice is low and soft, the unspoken hidden between the words he chooses._

_“_ _Don't you already know?”_

\-----

“Love,” Lily says with a twisted smile, “It always did make you such a weak little boy.”

 

He's so close now, puts up both hands as a show of surrender and tries not to let his gaze waver over to Caroline.

 

“Please,” he says again, “I can help you.”

 

Something shifts in her expression, her whole face softens, hard angles smooth out and there's light in her dead eyes, and it sets every nerve in his body off. Because the smile on her face, that isn't real. When she pulls out the stake, and Caroline takes in a deep, gulping breath with the release, that isn't real either.

 

“Too bad you're a little too late,” she says, and he senses it before it happens, but he can't get his limbs to cooperate, can only watch as Lily's arm comes swinging back down, stake along with it.

 

The “No” that is ripped from his throat is carried away by the wind and there's nothing left but eerie silence.

 

 

\----

 

 

_“_ _No. Please don't. Don't say it.”_

_The hurt that flickers across his face cuts deep and just adds to her growing mountain of self-hatred._

_He hides it away fast, nods his acceptance, “Fine. I can wait.”_

_“_ _Stefan . . .”_

_“_ _You need more time? I can understand that, and it's okay Caroline. I can wait.”_

_“_ _But I don't know how long it'll take.”_

_He lifts the corner of his mouth then into the smallest of smiles, “I'm a patient guy.”_

_A flash of her mother and an old sewing kit, and she hears him say those words all over again, “I know you are.”_

_She gives him one last fleeting smile before turning on her feet and heading for the door._

_It somehow doesn't surprise her when he calls out to her, stopping her mid-step._

_“_ _Caroline?”_

_She twists to look back at him, curls falling to the side, resting over her shoulder, “Yeah?”_

_He sticks both his hands in his pockets, eyes bright as they hold hers, and says,_

_“_ _Just don't make me wait for forever okay? I'd rather spend most of it by your side.”_

\-----

His shoes feel like they've been filled with lead and he can only drag them forwards and stumble over them as he falls to her side.

 

“No, no no no,” he says again, over and over, shaking his head in disbelief.

 

Her face has already turned to that awful ashen grey, veins rising to prominence and winding this way and that over her cold, cold skin.

 

The stake sits in her chest, her own hand still gripped around it.

 

Too late.

 

He'd been too late.

 

His head drops, and it's a broken sob that leaves his lips, “No.”

 

“Stefan?” The voice is soft, barely audible, her hand warm on his shoulder as she sits beside him.

 

He shakes his head, wet eyes turning on ones that only reflect his pain.

 

“I killed her,” he says, “I killed my mother.”

 

Caroline shakes her head, tears rolling down her cheeks but it doesn't take away from the fierceness of her expression, the steadfast belief as she looks back at him. “No,” she says, “No you didn't do this Stefan.”

 

She takes hold of both his cheeks, forces him to look at her as she rests her forehead on his, “It's not your fault.”

 

He falls to pieces in her arms then.

 

But its okay, her lips tell him against his hairline.

 

_We'll put each other back together again._

 

 

 

 

 

**End.**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure that's any better . . .


End file.
